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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609959">Stroll</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haestia/pseuds/Haestia'>Haestia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Shadows of Pandaria [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Existential Crisis, Existentialism, F/M, Gen, Human, M/M, Multi, Pandaren - Freeform, Queer Themes, Trolls, Warcraft Lore, World of Warcraft: Legion, World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:53:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haestia/pseuds/Haestia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vol'jin wakes up in Pandaria, goes on a stroll with Tyrathan and they discuss things in an existentialist manner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrathan Khort &amp; Vol'jin, Tyrathan Khort/Vol'jin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Shadows of Pandaria [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stroll</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mornings were getting colder and shorter, or so Vol'jin thought as he woke up from a dreamless, and visionless, sleep. An angle of a small patch of sky he could see through a rounded opening from where he was lying was coloured in a darker shade of gray. The mist was dense and low, he didn't even have to look through a window to confirm that. Instead, he had a numb pain in bones his pride wouldn't let him admit feeling it. To admit such pain would be an equivalent to moaning of an old man, not troll, maybe even a grey-fured pandaren would fuss about it. At his home, trolls had many meanings of old. One of the most common one was to use it in order to address, or represent, a person of wisdom and experience beyond the most members of tribe. Other one was less metaphorical. It was enough to make Vol'jin wonder whether will it ever be possible for him to be as strong and agile as he was before he died in that cave.</p><p>He shrug those thoughts off as he shrugged his shoulders, flexing muscles between his shoulder blades and stretching thick tendons of his neck. As he stood he straightened his spine, standing to his full height he liked to believe is imposing. Whenever he done that in Tyrathan's presence, man would rest his arms upon his waist, close to a holster that usually inhabited a few types of daggers and skinning knives. Vol'jin believed it to be out of an old habit a troll hunter had. Mostly because when Tyrathan did that his eyes would remain plain, no flash of fear or caution would pass through them. Sometimes, it made Vol'jin wonder whether the man is stupid or he is not as intimidating as he used to be. Then he would remember how he, mere days ago, encouraged Tyrathan to shoot a Zandalari troll who caught him trapped with his bigger arms engulfing Vol'jin's neck. Once again, he liked to think it was due to man's flawless skill with a bow, not because troll trusted the man with his life at that moment.</p><p>Vol'jin left his cold cell feeling sore and cold, but proud of himself for enduring entire night there. As it was getting colder, Chen tried to convince him to move his floor mat to upper levels of temple. Of course, being a troll, he refused pandaren's offer. He didn't take it as an insult, even though most members of his species would. He was also aware Chen knew of trolls' inborn stubborn nature and almost fanatic need to show their strength by denying themselves the simplest comforts of lives, even those as benign as sleeping in a bed. Though pandaren knew of that, he didn't have to understand that trolls' way of thinking. Still, pandaren was relieved Vol'jin finally quit crouching in the snow early at dawn outside the monastery. Troll assumed Tyrathan told him of this little hobby of his.</p><p>Vol'jin quickly found his way to kitchens where a few pandaren monks were folding rice balls and preparing some dried fish for lunch with fresh berries still covered in frost. He took some of it as one pandaren offered him to eat, but refused to sit. He didn't want to keep himself too long away from duties he now had.</p><p>Soon enough, Vol'jin was finding his way toward a mountain top he climbed continuously for these past few days. He greeted monks he met, who were early birds and already coming down the path he was now heading to. Though, pandaren monks never went all the way up. They left it undiscovered, to keep balance at peace.</p><p>He admired pandaren thinking since it possessed certain wisdom he will never fully understand. That is why he went all the way to the top every day. His methods, philosophies and perspective cared not of balance, but to put an enemy out of balance. Or, as he liked to simplify it, to flung an enemy off that imaginary scale into the void of damnatio memoriae.</p><p>Obviously, he wasn't the only one with such mindset. Vol'jin's amber eyes flickered toward Tyrathan who was sitting on a moss-covered rock which was half an hour ago probably burried beneath a pile of snow. Being so deep in thought, Vol'jin hadn't even noticed snow. Cold only now started stinging his shoeless feet.</p><p>"You are even quieter today, than the day before." Tyrathan spoke, standing up from his place and heading toward Vol'jin. "Must be one hell of an overthinking storm inside your head."</p><p>"You still heard me."</p><p>"Told you I'd be dead long ago if I hadn't."</p><p>"And I told you trolls do not sneak."</p><p>"Of course you don't. Shall we go for a stroll, troll?"</p><p>Vol'jin raised his eyebrow at Tyrathan's offer. The man was looking at him with an expression he recognised as a combination of boredom and apathy, a face man usually wore.</p><p>"You be in a foul mood today, manthing."</p><p>"Ah, the usual. Same old, same old." Tyrathan sighed. Both of them continued walking toward the top. Almost entierty of they stroll was spent in pregnant silence, as if both of them were hesitant to speak because of fear they might spill something they will regret. One was evident, both had worried glances, haunted eyes and tired postures. Vol'jin thought it was because of so much effort they put in protecting Pandaria. But, in his old life, this was no harder than usual mission of securing a territory from enemy invaders. Truth it was, resources were scarce and military strength maybe even laughable, especially to someone like Garrosh. Still, this shouldn't be taking so much toll on him.</p><p>Vol'jin looked at Tyrathan from the corner of his eye and wondered for a brief second if man's haggard face was the result of this oppression. Troll refrained himself from shaking his head as he began to realise neither of them was occupied by warcraft, something their old selves were so swift and talented at. This, Zandalari invasion, was a good distraction, Vol'jin had to admit.</p><p>"You are staring at me because your hand was usually quicker to decapitate a human than your eyes to get a proper look at it or you are considering decapitating me?" Tyrathan asked, not looking at Vol'jin at all. Troll quickly looked away, too quickly for his own liking. This won't do, Vol'jin thought, I be distracted. I be getting myself killed.</p><p>"All the heads of humans I decapitated I impale on a spear. After the battle I have a good look at them." Vol'jin shrugged. "And no. I be not consdering decapitating you."</p><p>"Shame. I always thought my head would look good on a spike."</p><p>"I disagree. Your hair would be that pink shade after the blood dried and green eyes tend to get some yellowish haze I always disliked. It be easier to make a shrunken head of dark-eyed and dark-haired people." Vol'jin dismissed Tyrathan's words. It was odd hearing human saying he even thought what his head would look like on a spike. It was even stranger that Vol'jin disliked hearing those words. Yet, it was true were Tyrathan ever found himself in the company of Darkspear trolls, Vol'jin wouldn't let them kill him. Therefore, even if Tyrathan's head will end up on a spike one day, it wouldn't be on a Darkspear spike.</p><p>"I knew a fellow who collected troll ears. It was quite disgusting. After some time, earwax would spill out and they would shrink. It was because the fool didn't know how to properly stuff them." Tyrathan spoke as he struggled stepping through a much thicker snow now. It seemed it was getting harder to walk as they were nearing the top. Vol'jin might even make it there, but Tyrathan will likely be digging his way through white blanket that enveloped entire mountain.</p><p>"What you be collecting?"</p><p>"I started collecting tusks. But they were impractical. And soon, I realised keeping count of anything related to killing will only alienate me from my morality. So I threw them all in that whirlpool at Stranglethorn, close to Booty Bay." Tyrathan answered after a few silent beats and even less crunches of snow beneath their feet. Man's clothing was getting all wet from the snow. Vol'jin was in no better state either. He wondered whether they'll be stubborn enough and continue their walk to the top or be wise and decide to abruptly turn and go back to the monastery.</p><p>They continued.</p><p>As they neared the peak, weather got worse too. Winds began to howl between mountains at such high point and unruled their hair that kept on slapping their now stiff skin. It was getting hard to hold a frown and squint through blizzard. It was nothing like the one that caught Tyrathan unprepared a few weeks ago, but it was a relentless one as well. After seeing how visibly man struggled and his limp returning, Vol'jin thought of telling him to go back. But he knew Tyrathan would bow down from this unnamed challenge. It was a challenge both of them have set for themselves. If they were to climb the mountain top every day from now on, it would become a proof to them they are at least still alive if not yet even a shadow of who they once were. However, in the end, challenge always subtly turned into a competition whenever the two of them were involved. To pandaren, it was foolish and unreasonable, and maybe even surprising since most of them did not see them as unreasonable anymore. All of the prejudices were broken once Vol'jin and Tyrathan proved themselves as those most capable to lead defence of Pandaria. And they, neither of them considered the other foolish. It was because they shared fellow understanding. A world outside Pandaria was a constant fight for survival, sometimes those lucky fought for dominance and power. But mostly, people hidden from Pandaria's mists would just care to live for another day than to maintain any kind of balance.</p><p>An invisible shiver ran down Vol'jin's spine. He clicked fangs against his tusks as a sudden rush of wind caught him. Tyrathan, being shorter and more resistant to cold, did not react, or had a better chance to pretend not to react. It angered Vol'jin. He recalled being in Tyrathan's mind, seeing through man's eyes and experiencing world in that fragile body. Tyrathan was right to assume he would feel terrified if the role were reversed. If not his physical built, then his determination and pride is what kept Vol'jin going. And that same emotions were clouding his irritated thoughts of how this competition between the two of them makes no sense. He wondered whether it will ever stop. After all, they had right to choose who they want to be now. Building blocks represented personality and were to be glued by a will to live again. Or perhaps, this nature of their racial conflict was so deep and ancient that it was still a wound even though it should be nothing but a scar already.</p><p>The flow of his thoughts made Vol'jin put awareness of cold in second plan. Fortunately, they were now few steps away from their goal. And the blizzard seemed to suddenly calm down, as though it faltered at the point where it should be the strongest. Indeed, once they stepped onto a small clearance, the wind faded and they could see clearly now what is above thick layers of mist. Sun warmed their skin weakly, melting frost on their faces as if finally granting them ability to communicate, not feel trapped like statues.</p><p>Tyrathan was the first to sit down, seeing that competition was somewhat over and that once again neither or both of them won. They still couldn't determine which was true. Perhaps, that enigmatic unresolvment was the point of balance. Perhaps, they should leave some problems unresolved and some words unsaid.</p><p>Vol'jin joined Tyrathan by crouching next to him. Both of them had their eyes glued to a far, blurred, almost invisible horizon and yet none seemed to register what was in front of them. Their eyes were directed at sky, but they were not seeing it. Vol'jin wondered what Tyrathan was thinking so thoroughly about. Maybe Tyrathan wondered the same about him. Truthfully, Vol'jin couldn't recall a single coherent thought during their climb. As if he was thinking, but forgetting at the same time. Maybe this new Vol'jin will be even more foolish. At that thought, Vol'jin felt the urge to chuckle, but instead just lifted the corner of his lips which caused facial muscles to move his tusks for a few inches.</p><p>"What amuses you?" Tyrathan broke the silence. Vol'jin regarded him from the corner of his eye.</p><p>"Many things used to. Nowadays, none of them more than myself. And you. Us."</p><p>"Interesting. Maybe we could give a thought of joining a Darkmoon Faire. Though, I doubt they would consider as funny enough." Tyrathan said, smiling weakly. It was a smile that obviously did not reach his eyes. Vol'jin noticed he never saw man's eyes smiling.</p><p>"To be funny, one should be ready to swallow their own pride." Vol'jin mused. He ran fingers through his thick beard and noticed how tangled it was. He began redoing red braids. "It be a trait neither of us could develop. Not even now."</p><p>"As you say. I think it is more because only the two of us can now get our jokes. We are alone in this, no one of your tribe nor my town experienced what we have. We are, in a way, endemic."</p><p>"I have always fought for freedom. It be a drive enrooted since my childhood. But now I begin to wonder whether too much freedom could be a form of enslavement."</p><p>"I never felt free. Only when I would hunt. When I would target something, anything, troll, human or a simple boar. It was a freedom of choice to end someone's life. I think of it sometimes as imprisonment. Or a curse." Tyrathan spoke. He was getting colder as they were not moving anymore. Vol'jin could almost see his bad leg was turning numb as unpleasant-looking tremors passed through man's muscles every now and then.</p><p>"Then we come to conclusion." Vol'jin finally spoke when he finished braiding last part of his beard. He couldn't see how it looked, but he didn't need to. He had done it so many times he could determine what it looked like just by feeling his beard with fingers. Of course, being a troll, process of braiding his beard was not to look pleasant afterwards. It was at the same time a practical and visually efficient reason: his beard wouldn't get in a way and it was harder to get grabbed by an enemy, and it accentuated his strong jaw. It was a warning for his enemy that even if he were to cut all of his limbs and both tusks off, he could still smash his bones or throat with a single bite. However, it will be harder to frighten Zandalari troll with that method. It was a threat to smaller enemies primarily. Another thought then caught Vol'jin's mind. He wondered whether his pride fueled false feel of invincibility. If it did, then it is what got him killed for sure.</p><p>"And that conclusion is...?" Tyrathan asked, catching Vol'jin's attention after few long moments of hearing nothing but howls of wind that passed between mountains' ragged passages.</p><p>"That we be slaves of freedom as much as we let it overwhelm us. It be presented to us now like a clod of clay. We have freedom to mold it the way we want to."</p><p>"But not outside limits and laws of nature." Tyrathan complemented Vol'jin's thought. In a form of an answer Vol'jin nodded and decided he wants new Vol'jin to recycle that intimidation that imposed fear in all of his enemies. He will mold that. Suddenly, it felt easier now he had a plinth for his sculpture.</p><p>"Do you think we will survive to see our new persons sculpted?" Tyrathan questioned, finally straightening his leg once the tremors got frequent and painful.</p><p>"Zandalari are a big threat. Nothing my Darkspears couldn't handle. United with mogu, harder, not impossible." Vol'jin calculated with a grim posture. "Troll, human and not even fifty monks trained to hold balance in combat..."</p><p>Tyrathan couldn't prevent himself from letting out a chuckle. Vol'jin sighed and lowered his head to look at frozen ground.</p><p>"We stand no chance."</p><p>"We do not. Especially not if we be playing by pandaren method."</p><p>"It is odd hearing you calling war a play, Darkspear chieftain."</p><p>"War be always done on board, not on field. Just like jihui. You strategically put soldiers on their positions, turn their facings and roles. You play."</p><p>"If you start thinking of soldiers like pawns, you will become another Garrosh." Tyrathan coldly said. It was so cold that Vol'jin almost felt those words cut him like edge of a knife. And cold fueled anger that quickly rose within him. He clenched his jaw and felt muscles of his shoulders and ribs tightening. He looked at man, Tyrathan's disinterest adding more oil to his angry fire. Vol'jin wanted to take it all out on human. To break his fragile bones, crush that sharp mind of his and tear that tonuge out that was dripping with venom of truth.</p><p>He stopped himself. Vol'jin was well aware where this path of seeing war as a game could lead. Tyrathan only reminded him of what he learned and witnessed long ago. But to prove man wrong, he couldn't break his bones. Not just because it would be a horrible thing to do. It was mostly because it would be horrible to do it to a friend. If Tyrathan were not his friend, he wouldn't warn him about this. He would let him plunge freely into abyss of hatred and obsession with war. To a place Garrosh was now drowning in.</p><p>"I know name of every troll in my tribe. After they finish their training, when they finally be ready to set off and decide who they want to be, I meet them and make sure to memorise their faces and etch their names in my mind. Because their tribe might never see them again." Vol'jin spoke, a hint of cold determination after a rush of anger was evident in his voice. "Yesterday, I memorised names of every monk."</p><p>"I admire that even though I consider it noble and foolish at the same time." Tyrathan replied to Vol'jin's unspoken judgement. Troll knew very well he did not take time to remember monks' names. Tyrathan prefered to keep himself at distance, refering to the monks with 'Sister' or 'Brother'. Vol'jin understood Tyrathan's reasons for that and considered them wise. But when he put himself in that place he felt a burden of responsibility upon his shoulders. In his life before Pandaria, he was a leader of a tribe. Even now, maybe those were just lingering ghosts of his past, he saw it as his duty to look after the people he was leading to fight.</p><p>"I can see your reasoning, Vol'jin. And if I were a troll, I would gladly follow you into any battle. You have all qualities a true leader should have. That is why they will follow you, not just because of their wish to save Pandaria." Tyrathan spoke and finally turned to look at Vol'jin for almost first time this day. Amber eyes looked into emerald and saw faint emotion in their depth. "I will follow you."</p><p>Rarely, Vol'jin did not know how to react or handle any situation. Result of his handling would vary from good to bad and neutral. But he would always do something. Right now, a conflict roared inside him. More than a dozen of conflicts. He still did not know who he was. He still did not come to accept current infinite freedom that seemed to serve as a curtain to enslavement. And one of the conflicts was even deeper within. Vol'jin still did not know what he felt.</p><p>Maybe it was due to his entire life being molded by dreams and wishes of others. He never felt he had any choice, but he also never bothered to questions those choices others decided for him. And now, he accomplished his father's dreams. Darkspear tribe endured and was strong, even without him to lead them. Though, he feared his people could be lost without him. Old Vol'jin refused to think of death's grasp at his age. It was foolish and naive. Traits he abhorred.</p><p>But he was free now. Free to choose and feel his own emotions. Was he still bound by chains of his past duties and ancestory?</p><p>"I...I feel honoured." Vol'jin spoke eventually, breaking their eye contact. There was still a timber of anger burning lightly beneath layers of abashment.</p><p>"You flatter me, Vol'jin." Tyrathan chuckled, letting his teeth chatter lightly. "If I were ever faced with such burden, I would run as fast as I can. Mistake not my opinion for nobility. I consider your duty a curse. My friend, you have thicker chains than I."</p><p>"That again depends on inidivudal perspective. What be your chains then?" Vol'jin asked and immediately felt he should regret asking. Tyrathan's smile faded as if it was never there and his eyes darkened beneath somber gaze directed into nothingness.</p><p>"My family, I suppose." Tyrathan finally spoke with voice hoarse from cold wind. "Honestly, I can't see any benefit of me returning to them. My marriage was already a lost cause before I left. My children hated whenever I left on so called business trip. There is no future back home."</p><p>"Is that what you be thinking or what you want?" Vol'jin asked. A small part of him hoped he struck a sore spot to inflict irritation like Tyrathan did minutes ago. Another, bigger part of him hoped to help his friend escape misery of his own thoughts. This was also the moment he realised conception behind Chen's words when he mentioned Tyrathan being led by Huojin philosophy and Vol'jin of Tushui, both uncommon, or reversed, for their leagues. He saw it clear as day now. Tyrathan being prone to impulsive emotion, letting himself drown in their intensity. He was living a fast life, he had to if he wanted to survive. Yet those same emotions that set him in motion were stalling his advance. Vol'jin, on the other hand, found intense emotions difficult and too often incomprehensible. He disliked their ambiguity. They were clouding judgement. But now, he was in the land of mists. Suddenly, all of that talk about balance Taran Zhu was so persistent about began to make sense.</p><p>"That is an interesting question." Tyrathan commented, disappointing Vol'jin since he did not hit a sore spot in the end. "I don't know. I feel past with my family as a distant hearth. It will always warm my heart, but I will never find a way back to it."</p><p>Tyrathan shivered visibly now, as if he forgot to control it and refuse showing any weakness. Frankly, Vol'jin wasn't bothered by that. He was well aware man was not weak. Anyone who could speak their soul freely was brave and bold. Vol'jin was preparing to ask Tyrathan why he thought he will never find a way back, but man's answer came faster.</p><p>"I will never find it because it is weak. I feel like a moth now. Drawn to a red pyre." Tyrathan said. For a moment, Vol'jin thought man will cough or sneeze. He did not. It was because of how strained his voice sounded as he spoke. Vol'jin attributed that to cold air that was choking them slowly. They should return to a safer area. Before it was too late.</p><p>"What be that pyre?"</p><p>Vol'jin looked at Tyrathan again even though he did not expect man to answer. However, Tyrathan turned to face Vol'jin. Troll focused again on man's eyes. Sen'jin taught him of reading his enemies' next move in their own eyes. He also taught him to search for partiality in eyes those he cared for.</p><p>"Oh, my wings are too short to reach it so soon. I'll see it if luck smiles on me." Tyrathan said and allowed mirth to enter conversation. "What of you, Vol'jin?"</p><p>"What of me?"</p><p>"Any family? Or you simply consider your tribe a family?"</p><p>"My tribe be my family, yes."</p><p>Vol'jin would lie if he said he liked talking about this particular topic. Yet perhaps this was a way to achieve balance. Tyrathan spoke freely his worries, with true emotion. By keeping all of which worried Vol'jin to himself, he was unfairly treating Tyrathan.</p><p>"All of my children are dead. Youngest son died not so long ago, because I left him with a deluded tribe infatuated by an evil god. It be a custom, tradition I obeyed even though I felt it was wrong thing to do." Vol'jin recalled a bitter memory. During that time, he was so busy with Darkspear tribe and overthrowing Zalazane's rule that he couldn't even make himself go search for his son in Stranglethorn Vale.</p><p>"My mate...We understand each other, but I know she will never let go. We have no future."</p><p>"And you? Did you let go of them?"</p><p>"No." Vol'jin confidently said. "I let go of Vol'jin who let that happen. It be too late for she and I, but I don't want that imprudence to be a part of me again."</p><p>"I assume I should be happy I'm lucky enough to never know whether one of my children dies before me."</p><p>"Uncertainty would be a death of me."</p><p>Vol'jin knew back than that giving hope to his mate of retrieving their son was cruel. Night before he sent a troll to search for Yenniku, he told her he does not expect their son returns alive and that she should not give in to false hopes as well.</p><p>Vol'jin refused to remember her face in details, that night and every day afterwards. Instead, he focused on communing with loa to spare soul of his son. Eventually, they listened and he was saved. But wound remained, and it will always be there like many other wounds.</p><p>"Pain of losing a child would be a death of me."</p><p>"Yes. Part of you dies no matter what. And pain be intense as ever. I just learned to live with it."</p><p>Vol'jin looked at the sky that was now clearer. Sun was brighter, but the winds were colder. He hoped a new path will be enlighted by this very same sun. He wished it to be easier, but he will not let himself be foolish. This new chance to live will be harder than anything he ever endured. It will be full of conflicts and confrontation with the past he chosed to ignore and forget. There were moments when Vol'jin would ask himself whether he could choose not to come back to his tribe. Were they really lost without him? What if all these times decisions he made were somehow a path toward collapse? Of course, he couldn't know that. Yet, he was led by wisdom of loa. He did everything he could to protect his tribe. It was more than duty or promise. There was no escaping his role of leader. He could only promise to his tribe, and himself, he will be a worthy leader now.</p><p>Vol'jin looked again at Tyrathan who caught his gaze. A wave of sadness passed over his soul, freezing like this blizzard. Pandaria could be his home. He could accept death of Vol'jin and stay here living as a troll. He wondered if Tyrathan was preparing to do that.</p><p>"So, new Vol'jin would try his luck again in family life?" Tyrathan asked, smirking lightly. Vol'jin sighed, shrugging with his shoulders. It was almost laughable. Just as he was thinking of accepting Vol'jin's death, Tyrathan averted his mind from that option.</p><p>"Maybe. If he be not consumed by mists of green land." Vol'jin smirked and locked his eyes with Tyrathan. As if in challenge, to fight him like raptors fought when bored. A metaphore for a metaphore, Vol'jin thought, and we will see in what chaos absurd leads.</p><p>"What a self-destructive nature we have." Tyrathan chuckled, his eyes conveying something comprehensible, understanding and nodding in a knowing way, yet far from forthright, raw emotion.</p><p>It occured to Vol'jin he never thought of some things he did possessed a self-destructive nature. He could easily recall them now. All those times he blindly rushed into a fight just to prove himself a hero. Foolishly letting his temper get better of him as he threatened Garrosh. It alnost cost him his life. He recalled volunteering to help finding Tyrathan during that odd blizzard and being stopped by Taran Zhu's veritable, accusing question. There were many of such kind. Perhaps it was adrenaline, hero complex, need to berserk...he did not care to determine the source of his self-destructive nature. In past few months chaos enveloped his life. Vol'jin, chieftain of Darkspear tribe, being a friend with a human was one of the most chaotic and dangerous things, but a witless thrill as well.</p><p>"That, Tyrathan, be one of the wisest conclusions said this morning."</p><p>"And even wiser would be to make our way back to monastery." Tyrathan commented as he glanced at another blizzard approaching. His lips were already getting blue, almost the lightest shade of Vol'jin's skin. Vol'jin couldn't feel tips of his ears anymore. Indeed, it was a right time to go.</p><p>"Back to a safe place."</p><p>Better not risk, troll thought and it seemed Tyrathan agrees. If they were lucky, if Tyrathan was still followed by transparency of his Light and Vol'jin still graced by presence of loa, they might survive this fight with Zandalari. It would be a mirthful day, like every victory. And who knows, maybe loa themselves don't know the outcome. Vol'jin could only hope Bwonsamdi will appreciate him sending Zandalari victims and let him live to take his rightful place old Vol'jin possessed.</p><p>"Of course, since there are a lot of self-destructive temptations on this peak." Tyrathan stood up and averted his eyes from invisible abyss to a troll next to him. Vol'jin followed man and peeked as well before looking at Tyrathan and smirked.</p><p>"I will have to agree."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I ship them. So it was quite challenging to find that subtle frequencey of their conversation that could convey the smallest hints of Tyrajin but still not wonder out of canon. If you didn't catch them read again and pay attention to symbolism of colours at the end of work XD. I reeeaally want to know what you think about this. I think I have finally found some writing style I'm comfortable with. I managed to write this in one day without distractions and delays, so it was going pretty smooth, though I fear I have maybe overdone it and put too much different topics. Let me know what you think, fellow readers!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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